To Keep The Heart Lights On

"If ever a man had it all
It would have to be me
And, oooh, I love you..."

–Climax Blues Band, I Love You

I listened to Roger Love speak about speaking. About voice and volume. About melody. About how all the things he shared with the audience, being a famous voice coach, can make us better communicators. 

Unfortunately I was tired from work travel, so I nodded off here and there. I heard most of what he said, though. About how important melody is and why we should pretend we are singing while you are speaking. We should move it around, shake it up, swoop, dive, soar, and let our voice be as interesting as we are.

Man, I needed melody in that moment. Feeling burnt out at work, unsure of the future as recession fears grow, and being far from home at a work conference called HR Inspire, I felt very uninspired and alone. After Roger was done speaking, another attendee struck up a conversation with me. Our spouses came up, and I said it was almost our 25th anniversary. Twenty-five years from the day we met, and 19 years from when we were married, on the same date. I also talked proudly of my daughters. He smiled and asked me what was so special about my wife, I said, "She's open and empathic and has such a loving heart. Our children have such a great role model." Then he asked, "What about you?" I smiled and winked, then said, "She's taught me well."

And while that was nice sharing about my wife and daughters, it also made me more miserable and homesick. After that, I wandered alone as the attendees left, many headed to the conference reception. The conference venue was Music City Center in Nashville, and music of all flavors was piped over the event center PA system. 

A familiar melody started to play, an old song I've always loved. One that reminded me of my wife. Lyrically it wasn't literal to our relationship, but it was close. The song was "I Love You" by Climax Blues Band, and it floored me. I sat alone in the lower lobby and tears welled in my eyes. 

I thought about that one day at the beach nearly 25 years ago, and more tears welled in my eyes. I've always been a hopeless romantic my whole life, although romanticizing our love hasn't needed much help; our melody has always been there. However, we've had relationship problems and painful moments of angst and anger, but we've learned to prioritize honesty, growth, intimacy, and love. And even after 25 years of love and growth, we're going through this book called The Love Prescription: Seven Days to More Intimacy, Connection, and Joy together.

I sat there and wiped the tears away. No matter how fried and uncertain I felt about my business and my work life, and how fearful I was about the future, all I had to do was think about these melodies: the love of my life and our children. That's more than enough love to keep the heart lights on. 

"Since then I never looked back

It's almost like living a dream

And, oooh, I love you..."

A Renaissance of Pure Potentiality

We've always told our kids that it's not about the school grades, it's about doing their personal best and learning. Our oldest Beatrice would argue that we do care about grades, especially now that she's been in middle school for the past two-plus years. She's not completely wrong nor is she completely right on that one. For me, someone who grew up constantly striving to excel in school with the payoff being the grades, and the parental and peer recognition and social acceptance that came from that. What I didn't consciously realize then was that it wasn't so much about the learning; it was about being esteemed, even envied. 

It's different now. I'm different now. My wife Amy has definitely been more about pure potential and willingness to do our best, whatever the outcome, and I'm there now, too. Because the outcomes literally should be learning and growth as humans trying to traverse a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures. Some self-imposed and many others brought on by others as well as circumstance. 

Our youngest Bryce has an easier time with her schoolwork overall than her big sister does. Don't get me wrong, even with Beatrice who struggles with math and reading, they both are thriving in school (Bea has an A+ in English -- and there's the grade pride thing again). Their grades reflect that, yes, but their entire daily exercise of living has translated to else their abilities to learn, adapt, and apply new insights to how they approach life as teens and beyond.

However, a lifetime of inevitable challenges and failures, whether self-imposed or not, isn't how life should be viewed exclusively. Yes, they will make decisions that won't be in their best interest. Yes, there may also come a time when they are discriminated against and opportunities withdrawn because of their gender, of who they are, of what they do.

But we want them to believe and breathe the Law of Pure Potentiality, that they can create anything, anytime, anywhere. This was one of our latest meditations and one that really resonated with me. It's based on the fact that we are, in our essential state, pure consciousness. Pure consciousness is pure potentiality; it is the field of all possibilities and infinite creativity. Pure consciousness is our spiritual essence.

Maybe we're not so far off when we tell our children they can be whoever they want to be and do whatever they want to do -- their spiritual essence is pure potential. The fact is that the challenges, limitations, and discrimination that can and will happen to them are all transitory -- they will still be able to create anything, anytime, anywhere. That includes creating love, empathy, happiness, and peace. 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right. Although I grew up a Christian, only now do I understand why others react so negatively when someone talks about their spirituality, their faith, and how God (our pure consciousness) provides. 

Our family's faith today is a renaissance of pure potentiality. Already both of our girls have started developing the ability to adapt, overcome, and to keep creating a positive vision of what's next. The latter being the biggest life differentiator of all. Grades may measure academic progress, while what we manifest measures the rest. 

Being More Emo

"Oh I get so emotional baby
Every time I think of you
I get so emotional baby
Ain't it shocking what love can do..."

–Whitney Houston, So Emotional

"You know, Bryce, he's so emo," Beatrice said to her sister.

"I know, so emo," Bryce echoed. 

"Who are you talking about and what does that mean?" I asked. "What's the context? Does it mean that the person is too emotional?"

"I don't know," Bryce said. Beatrice didn't answer.

"What do you mean you don't know? You say it all the time."

"Not all the time," Bea said.

Well, maybe not all the time, I thought. But many times a week I hear our girls, now 12 and 14, use that expression.

Most of the time they're using it in a light, self-deprecating way. At least, that's what Bryce ended up telling me. When I told my wife Amy, her Kidpower training popped open and she said we need to talk with them about minimizing other people's emotions using that term. Then she laughed at herself, although still serious.

The term emo literally means "a person who is overly sensitive or emotional." And the term is used to make fun of people who do show their emotions more than others. It can also mean someone who is shy, brooding, and dark and who listens to Emo music, which is a rock music genre, post-hardcore and hardcore punk, characterized by emotional, often confessional lyrics. Not quite Whitney Houston, that's for sure. God, I'm getting old. I had no idea what all this meant when I started looking for answers online. 

Based on what I learned, I've always been emo. Never the toughest guy in the toolshed, I was always sensitive and emotional, although I struggled early on with managing my feelings, expressing myself, asking for help when I needed it. I learned over time that it's empowering being vulnerable, to be able to express my feelings and relate to other's feelings.

When I think about the broader implications of living in a society that does not embrace sharing one's feelings, especially for boys and men, I agree with my wife. We shouldn't minimize other's emotions when they're vulnerable enough to share them, because they most likely need support; we have to meet people where they are. It's much healthier to express how we feel and to be given empathic understanding in kind. Unfortunately, misogynistic societies have always denigrated others for being emotional and caring and why women are the weaker gender and are less than effective leaders than men. 

Of course, that's not true. I've got a household of effective female leaders and am proud that we talk about how we feel, how we manage our emotions, and how we provide love and support to one another and to others. So proud of our BhivePower! Our teen girls know that being more emo is the way to go and to not minimize others who are, or who aren't. 

A Renewal of Faith

"'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
Because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me..."

–B. J. Thomas, Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head

"Jenny," I said to our dog. "It's raining."

Jenny yawned and did a downward dog stretch. I thought her eyes said, I hear it, Dad. Ugh, that means I'm going to get wet.

While I waited outside for her to do her morning business, towel at the ready to dry her and wipe off her feet, I celebrated the rain. The rest of the family was still fast asleep on this dark and wet early fall Sunday morning. Our rabbit was safely snuggled away in his hutch. 

I reached my hand out to let the raindrops fall onto my open palm. Cool, wet, and soft. Soothing. No other sounds or smells but the rain. Like a therapy session for the soul. All the adulting things we have to deal with and worry about day after day washed away temporarily. The unstable world around us – the drought where we live, fires, the pandemic and other diseases, the economy, inflation, making a living, cultural and societal divides, crime, mental health issues, dangerous misinformation, and of course raising our children in the middle of it all – restabilizes into refreshing and nurturing raindrops for a world longing to heal. I placed my wet palm to my face and smiled.

Rain has always had this effect on me; God's way of inspiring a renewal of my faith in humanity and my place in it. We all want to be loved, to be safe, to be healthy, to be ourselves without fear of shame or discrimination. 

As I dried off our dog Jenny, "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" played inside my head. That was followed by a a line from "Three Little Birds":

"...don't worry about a thing, 'cause every little thing gonna be all right..."

Jenny and I sat next to each other on the coach. Everyone else was still asleep. I love my family, I thought. Jenny sighed a doggy sigh. I sighed a hopeful sigh.

Yes, a renewal of faith. Because I'm free, nothing's worrying me. 

Day One All Over Again

Our girls were excited for us to see their classrooms and meet their teachers. It would be the first in-person open house since before the pandemic and we were all looking forward to attend. I was already to go for more than our children because earlier that day I had met with the presidents of the teacher and administrative/support staff unions to talk about their priorities. I'll be on the school board starting next year so the timing was good before our open house. 

But I have to admit, I was a little apprehensive for this middle school open house. The ghosts of decades past school anxieties always bubble up for me before these current in-person school events. 

Onward I went. It was great to see old friends and parents of kids we've been going to school with since preschool and kindergarten. Our youngest Bryce is in beginning choir this year, so before the class tours started we watched her perform with the rest of the kids and the school band performed as well. 

Our oldest Beatrice had looked forward to showing us around the school and wanted to make sure we knew where we were going. Again, it had been nearly three years since our last open house, prior to Bea starting 6th grade. The girls have been back in school for the past year, but more of the parent events have been virtual until now.

Our plan was to divide and conquer and then switch. Meaning, my wife Amy and I would go to each girl's first three period classes, then we'd switch for the last three periods. We'd been having a heatwave and the first few classes were really hot and stuffy, which triggered my anxiety. I pushed through though and kept my focus on what the teachers shared with the parents in the room. 

But then I misread Bryce's third period room number on the schedule she wrote out for us and went to the wrong room. The teacher was one that Bea had in 6th grade, one of her favorites in middle school so far, and I knew Bryce didn't have him. I felt bad, but a few minutes into his intro I knew I had to go find the right room. I apologetically got up to leave and he was gracious with my exit, giving me a fist bump on the way out. 

When it was time to go to Bea's physical education period, I asked another teacher where to go. She pointed to the field where a group of parents gathered, so that's where I went. Later Beatrice would point out that was the 6th grade PE period, not the 8th grade one. Hers was in the gym, so I missed out on that one. 

The last class of open house was Beatrice's history class. By then the outside air was much cooler and flowed into the open classroom windows. We all sat down and the teacher started her overview. I heard music playing in the distance and it sounded like it was coming in from the outside windows where all the kids played waiting for their parents to be done. But then it sounded like it was inside the room somewhere. I thought, who's playing music right now? 

The music persisted and now I could tell is was Abacab by Genesis. Great song, I thought. And then it hit me -- the music was coming from me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone that was playing the music. Somehow I had started playing iTunes as we entered the classroom. I apologized and everyone laughed. The teacher didn't look too happy about it and I actually worried she would take my phone away. A dad in front of me said, "I love that song." 

That's how our girls' open house went for me. Just like that, it felt like my first day of junior high all over again. Anxious, sweaty, going to the wrong classes, feeling shy and withdrawn, accidentally playing music in class (which I never did way back when because I didn't have a phone then), and generally feeling out of sorts. And it wasn't just a coming-back-from-summer-break out of sorts. It was a coming-back-from-a-crazy-pandemic one.

I'm sure others felt the same way. Students, parents, teachers, and administrators alike. It's like day one all over again; the first time in a long time. But day one leads to another year of learning and out of sorts becomes in the zone. I thought about my meeting earlier in the day with the teacher and support staff union presidents. As long as we can recruit and retain quality teachers and support staff (not easy without enough affordable housing where we live); meet our children individually where they're at academically and provide the learning support they need; and provide them the social, emotional, and physical safety skills needed throughout life, we'll be okay. No easy task for sure, but a mission we're all signing up for. 

Keep All of Our Students Safe

The email from our middle school principal read:

I am writing to inform you of an incident that happened this morning.  Everyone is fine, but we want to share this information with our families.  A student was approached today on the way to school by a bright blue four door sedan occupied by a few people.  The people tried to coax the student into the car.  We are bringing this to your attention for two reasons.  First, to remind you to talk to your child/children about safety and being approached by strangers.  Second, if you see a car that matches this description, please reach out to the police.  We will have additional police presence today at dismissal.  We want to help keep all of our students safe. 

Yes, we want to help keep all of our students safe. I immediately texted my wife Amy since she was out running errands. As soon as she returned home, she contacted our school principal and the other school principal (where it happened) to thank them for notifying us all and to remind them about Kidpower. Kidpower is the nonprofit organization my wife works for that includes social, emotional, and physical safety programs for children, teens, and adults, including parents. 

Our kids have been raised with Kidpower and we wouldn't have it any other way. Although "stranger danger" as it's called isn't as common as running into safety issues with people you may know, safety first is always our way every day no matter who is involved. Even when our tween and teen daughters give us eye rolls when we discuss safety issues, which they do, they still listen, and they still know what to do. 

So, after school the day the incident happened, Amy again reviewed our safety plans:

"You move away from danger. If anyone stops in a car and tries to get you inside, or is walking and just tries to get you to do something, you run away and find help and safety. You don't have to acknowledge or stop or talk with anyone trying to talk to you who you don't know, no matter what they say. 

"Because they may say, 'Hey, your mom and dad have been in an accident and I need to take you to them.' But if you don't know them, you do not go with them. Since you have phones, you get to safety, get help, and call us. 

"And even if you do know them, you know there are only a few people you're allowed to go with in an emergency. The only exceptions are if you can't get a hold of us and you need to get to safety and you do know the people who can help, and they know us, even if they're not those designated you can go with. 

"We cannot emphasize this enough -- you never have to go with someone or even acknowledge or talk to someone you don't know no matter how convincing they may be. You always move away and get to safety and to your adult in charge, whomever that is."

Eye rolls aside, our girls echoed these lessons back to us and confirmed our safety rules. Since school is back in again and now they'll ride their bikes to school sometimes, we want to help keep all of our students safe.

Be Here Now

As we walked to our local farmers’ market, I told my father-in-law about how I think I hurt my right leg recently. “Well, as the expression goes,” I said, “I’m no spring chicken anymore.”

“No, we’re not,” he said.

“It’s the same when Amy pulled her hamstring,” I said. “We just can’t do the same things we used to do. Moving furniture, running, the list goes on.”

He nodded and added, “But I still want to do the things I can do and be here now.”

“Amen,” I said.

Be here now. That rang the old gong in my aged head for the rest of the day. He’s had his own health issues including partial knee replacements. But I still want to do the things I can, he had said. That also rang the gong for some time afterward.

I definitely still want to do the things that I can, but he reality of age and body parts deteriorating is here. Has already been here for years. In August 2014, I had knee surgery due to a torn meniscus and disintegrated cartilage in my right knee. Ugh. This after actually hitting a personal best of a 8.5-minute mile at age 48. Not bad for a big old ex-smoker with two young children. 

Ah, yes. Two young children. The two children we didn't want to have until we did that we're so grateful for. I was 42 when we had our oldest Beatrice. 44 when we had Bryce. My wife Amy is six years younger than me, so she was still in her 30's when she had our daughters. I read that the average age of first-time mothers in America today is now up from 21 to 26, while for fathers, it's increased from 27 to 31, so we both skewed that average. But there are a growing number of people waiting longer to have kids for whatever reason (finances, jobs, changing minds like us, etc.). 

Knowing that I'd be a much older father of two children didn't really bother me until now. Only because of what I outlined above -- my body can't do what it used to do. Even after coaching both girls in soccer for six years that included me running around with the the teams, changing directions quickly, and kicking the soccer balls back and forth. I felt good. I could do it then. Not so much now. 

We have family and friends dealing with debilitating illnesses, paralysis, and more, and so Amy and I are very grateful that we're relatively healthy and are able to keep ourselves in good shape with regular exercise. However, we are more easily injured these days and it takes a lot longer to recuperate. It doesn't change the fact that we live our lives fully, but it does mean we have to be more realistic with what we choose to do and how we do it. 

Which is why we want to remain relatively healthy (as much as we can control) and keep ourselves in good shape for us and our children, now 12 and almost 14 years old. Not just physically healthy, but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Those latter two things can break as well and I'll be way north of 60 when they're in their 20's. Which is why we exercise them all regularly. Why we're always pushing ourselves to learn and grow. Why I started drumming at age 56. Why Amy is an avid puzzle person. Why we meditate every day. 

I heard a great quote from Florida Scott-Maxwell, a playwright, author, and psychologist who said:

"You need only claim the events of your life to make yourself yours. When you truly possess all you have been and done, which may take some time, you are fierce with reality."

It took some time for me, but that's how Amy and I live our lives; we embrace all the things that we've been and done; all the ups and downs and aches and strains and pleasures and pains; we are fierce with reality. Our daughters have benefited from that, will benefit from that, and we hope will live their lives that way in their 20's and beyond, especially after we're both long gone. 

Again, my father-in-law's words keep banging the gong in my head: I still want to do the things I can do and be here now.

Be here now, fierce with reality. Always.